“Like what you see?” Namgi says, having caught me staring at him.
“Last night, in the main courtyard…” I watch as the teasing smile slips off his face. “That man you spoke to was your brother?” Even without Ryugi calling him brother, the striking resemblance was too much to ignore. Both men—all of them, actually—were tall and wiry and shared the same sharp features.
“Two of them were my brothers,” Namgi says after a beat of silence. “Hongi, the one in back, is more like an inbred cousin.”
I shiver, remembering the events that preceded their arrival, the awful sound of long, sinuous bodies winging through the air. “Are you not a spirit, then?”
“Not a spirit, thank the gods,” he says. “Not that I don’t appreciate spirits.” He flashes a grin at a group of youths approaching us on the city street. The following eruption of giggles is admittedly impressive.
“I am not a spirit, nor am I a demon or a god.” He pauses dramatically. “I am an Imugi. A beast of myth.”
I look skeptically at his curly head and mischievous grin.
He laughs. “This is just my human form. This form takes a lot less energy to move, believe me. In my soul form, I am a powerful water snake. Like a dragon, but without its magic. The Imugi are a warring breed. We’re born in war, and we die in war. We worship no gods, believing that we ourselves can become gods, either through living one thousand years or by fighting in one thousand battles. Only then can we be elevated from snakes to dragons.
“Of course”—Namgi grins sheepishly—“there is one shortcut to godhood, as there always is with long endeavors. The pearl of a dragon can transform an Imugi from a snake into a dragon, if he were to wish upon it. I’d heard rumors that hinted that Lord Shin had such a pearl in his possession. Being the hotheaded fool that I was, I tried to steal it. Suffice to say, I failed. It was definitely not in his room. I mean, you’ve seen it, there’s—”
“Nothing there,” I finish. Nothing but a cabinet, a paper screen, and a shelf.
“Exactly. It’s as if he doesn’t have any possessions. You should see my room. It’s filled with all manner of things I’ve collected over the years.”
“Mine as well. My grandmother is always nagging at me to put away my things. She says, ‘Mina, how are you going to handle a household of your own one day if you can’t even keep your room in order?’ Of course, whenever I do determine to clean it, it’s only to find that she’s already folded my clothes and swept the floors. She tells me to be responsible, and yet she can’t help but treat me like a child. She will always see me as her youngest grandchild, the only girl in her bloodline after having only sons and grandsons. She says I’m her favorite, even though, as a grandmother, she really shouldn’t have any favorites. She says I remind her of her grandmother, whom she misses every day.”
“You are close to your grandmother.”
I bite my lip, suddenly overcome with emotion.
“What of your parents?”
“They passed away when I was a child. My father at sea. My mother in childbirth.”
“So it was your grandmother who raised you.”
“My grandmother and grandfather, before he passed. And my eldest brother and his wife.”
“I haven’t seen my mother for years,” Namgi says. “Not since I pledged my life to serving Shin. Most Imugi find a master to serve, to fulfill their one thousand battles, since we’re not exactly a patient breed. To this end, most of my kind serve gods of death or goddesses of war. I had planned to serve the Goddess of Moon and Memory, alongside my brothers. But something had always felt wrong to me, to serve a master just to fight in meaningless battles. Stealing the pearl was my form of rebellion. When Shin caught me, he should have killed me, but instead he offered me a role in his guard. He saved me, and for that, I owe him a life debt. And my mortal life is, more or less, one thousand years.”
I look at him, slightly awed. “So how old are you?”
Namgi flashes me his now familiar grin. “Nineteen.”
Though we’ve been walking steadily, the Sea God’s palace remains in the distance, at times appearing even farther away. Namgi leads me down one street, then another, until we reach a road that runs alongside a canal, the main feature a teahouse with low decks that stretch over the water. It’s a lovely sight.
I’ve seen it before. We passed this building on the journey to Fox House last night, which means we’ve gone too far—we’re now west of the Sea God’s palace, when before we were to the east.